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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588362">And This</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth'>moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moth &amp; Raven: Canon-Compliant [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:09:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Reyja and Julian are physically intimate with each other is in the Palace baths during the Masquerade...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moth &amp; Raven: Canon-Compliant [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steam swirls around Nadia's bath chamber, gathering against the high ceiling and condensing on the window panes. When Portia opened the door, the blast of air from the hallway blew a channel through the mist, parting it like curtains to reveal the smooth mirror surface of the heated pool that awaits us. Julian inhales deeply and steps inside with a final nod to his sister as she slips back into the throng of the Masquerade.</p><p>I didn't realize how exhausted I was until we stopped running; my feet hurt, I have a headache, my eyes are stinging with tiredness. But somehow, I feel light. Julian is with me, buoying my spirits with every touch and comment. I smile at him while his back is turned to survey the room; I wouldn't trade his presence for anything. </p><p>"It's hot in here, isn't it?" he remarks, glancing over his shoulder.</p><p>I don't think his blush is only due to the heat. "I should hope so. Who wants a freezing cold bathroom?"</p><p>He laughs and turns back to me. His hands sneak around my waist and pull me against him with a quiet hum of approval. "As a matter of fact, the contrast of hot and cold can be quite pleasant. That's how it is back in Nevivon. Our pools are outside, though. Natural springs."</p><p>I remove our masks and set them on the table next to the door. Julian's hands are already wandering: across my ass, up my sides, along my spine. Though his touch is gentle, reverent, I can feel the desire behind it. He offers another smile before bending down to kiss me. </p><p>"Can I help you with your dress, my dear?"</p><p>"Sure." I untie his cravat before he can lean away. As I let my fingers trail over his chest, the buttons of his shirt call out for my attention. "But I get to help you, too."</p><p>He nods vigorously and within moments, he stands bare-chested in front of me. He trembles when I run my palms down his solid pectorals, onto his abdomen and around his narrow hips. Our gazes meet just as I dip below his waistband.</p><p>"Mm! Ah, h-hold on, darling. I… I don't want what happened in the library to repeat itself." Reluctantly, he takes a step back, opening a space between us.</p><p>"I hope you're not tormenting yourself about that. I told you I liked it, and I meant it."</p><p>"No, I know." He laughs self-consciously. "But I want to do so much more."</p><p>He finds the corset laces on the back of my dress and begins to work at them, pausing halfway through to remove his gloves and toss them aside. When the ties are loose enough, he swallows hard. The question, seeking my final permission, is clear in his mismatched eyes.</p><p>We've haven't seen each other naked yet. The changing tent was too cramped to show much and though he did assist me with my gown, he'd politely averted his gaze, at least as much as he could, when I first put it on. </p><p>It was politeness, right? Not disgust? Of course it was.</p><p>Wasn't it…? </p><p>But it’s too late. Once that thought creeps into my head, shame isn't far behind. What if he doesn't like what he sees? He’s sworn to the contrary, but now, when push comes to shove, will he change his mind? It's one thing to know that someone is fat, but to see the cellulite and stretch marks and rolls and creases yourself is entirely another. I can feel the blood that rushes to color my cheeks, not with excitement, as his are, but distress. Humiliation. Breaking eye contact, I focus instead on the thick auburn hair that darkens his chest and stomach, disappearing beneath his trousers in a tantalizing stripe.</p><p>He’s so handsome. Beautiful, even. </p><p>And I’m not.</p><p>Cool, bare fingers caress my jawline and end curled under my chin. Delicately, Julian raises my eyes back to his. “Are you alright, darling?”</p><p>Despite the moisture in the air, my mouth has gone dry. I’m all too aware of the roundness of my face, my double chin, my small, uneven breasts and heavy belly. Everything I have grown to despise about this body I’m stuck in. Part of me wishes I could flee from him, take refuge where no one can ever see me again. But there’s nothing in his gaze except concern. Kindness. Even, if I’m not mistaken, understanding.</p><p>“We don’t have to move so fast, you know,” he says gently.</p><p>I do my best to tamp down the sob welling in my throat. “It’s not you. Really, it’s not.”</p><p>Julian cocks his head and shifts his weight, moving his hand to rest against the side of my neck. I look down at his long, slender fingers and regret it immediately; my own are so thick, so blocky in comparison. </p><p>“I… I don’t want to push you, my dear, but if there’s anything at all I can say to, I don’t know, assuage your fears? I’ll do whatever you need.” There’s a smile behind his words. He rubs my shoulder and sighs, then pulls me into another embrace. It’s quick but no less affectionate than any of his other hugs have been, and when we part he takes my hand to guide me towards a low stone bench set into the wall on the other side of the chamber.</p><p>“Sometimes I forget how young you are, Reyja.”</p><p>Any other time, such a statement would have made me bristle. But he says it with a sad shake of his head, no judgement or derisiveness in his tone.</p><p>"I still had so much growth to do at twenty-five. Ha, not physically, of course: I was this tall before my sixteenth birthday. Can you believe that? I all but towered over everyone else in town!"</p><p>I believe it. The idea of him as a child, all hands and feet, beaming his trademark grin from beneath masses of curly red hair, appears in my mind like a vision. I can’t help but smile, imagining this kid head-and-shoulders above every grandma who tried to rebuke him, every shopkeeper telling him off for knocking over a display with an errant elbow.</p><p>“You’re picturing it, aren’t you? I promise it was worse than you think. Ahh, but I should be kinder to myself, shouldn't I? There's no need to ridicule that boy. I think he did his best. I did my best. And so have you.”</p><p>I know he’s trying to distract me. He’s studying my fingers, playing with them as he talks. “Have I?" I ask softly. People always say that. I'm not sure it's true.</p><p>Julian looks up. “I know you have. You've seen so much, my dearest. To be where you are, to have— have endured what you've endured..."</p><p>I wait for him to say more, and when he doesn’t, I frown. “It was more cowardice than doing my best."</p><p>“Oho, on the contrary! Take it from me: running from your problems just produces more of them. Living beside the person you become after all's said and done isn't easy. You're remarkably brave, whether you see it or not."</p><p>I sigh. “I don’t want to be brave.”</p><p>He scoots closer to me and drapes his arm over my shoulders, toying with the folds of my dress as he ponders his next words. “What I meant was it took me years longer than it has taken you to embrace the events that shaped me. A tentative embrace, true, but an embrace nevertheless. I'm no stranger to that struggle. But you've let yourself be who you are, and that's the piece of you I... I..."</p><p>He stops and runs a hand through his hair, smiling at me almost shyly. His voice drops into tenderness as he continues. "I want you to see what I see when I look at you, my darling. All the— all the beauty in you."</p><p>He's said this kind of thing before. I grimaced at it then and I grimace at it now. That I could be beautiful is such a foreign concept, it doesn't make sense to me. Maybe, <em>maybe</em> I could accept that I have pretty eyes, or nice lips, but taken as a whole? The bad far outweighs the good. </p><p>"Reyja, do you trust me?"</p><p>Julian is staring now, his expression deep and unreadable. Under his scrutiny, and unable to tell where this might be leading, I nod hesitantly.</p><p>"I'm going to be very frank with you, because I… well, perhaps I should just say it. No qualifiers." He takes both of my hands in his. "I have never been one to enjoy the conventional. When you've traveled as much as I have, you learn to find uniqueness infinitely more attractive."</p><p>His eyes soften as he takes me in. "And your beauty <em>is</em> unique. It fits you. Your mind and your personality, those are what make you so stunning. To me and everyone else who sees you as you are. When I look at you—" He pauses to cup my cheek, drawing his thumb across skin pocked by acne scars. "—I remember laughing together at the Raven, and feeling your body against mine in Mazelinka’s bed, and, mm, and kissing you. How sweet and perfect it is. I hear your voice and smell the scent of your hair. All of those things are beautiful to me."</p><p>My heart reaches for his as he wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head. </p><p>"Of course, even if I couldn’t see all that, or I didn't know what you'd been through, I'd still find you very alluring. Such lovely eyes, your softness and your strength, that smile and the sound of your voice and the way you tuck your hair back after it falls across your cheek, and... ah, well, as I believe I've told you before, I do know what I like. And what I like…" He runs his hands down my back, stopping at the widest part of my hips. "Is this." He moves again, coming around to stroke my belly. "And this." Those graceful fingers take hold of my thighs as he leans down and nuzzles the fat under my chin. "And this."</p><p>I don't realize I'm holding my breath until I let it all out in a rush as he slides down to suck on my collarbone. He discovered how sensitive I was there just before we first ventured into the Hanged Man's realm, and from the eagerness with which he lavishes his attention on me now, he couldn't wait to explore it further.</p><p>I don't think I mind.</p><p>"And I'm almost positive," he murmurs, his lips against my skin, "that I'll like everything else you have to show me just as much. Ahem, if not more."</p><p>His eyes are alight with desire, burning into mine like embers. We've been kept from this moment several times: his promise to Mazelinka, the accident in the library, interruptions by Portia and Muriel and Asra. But as I fall into that molten gray, I remember what I said to Portia just a few days ago, when she asked about me and Julian. He makes me feel capable, desirable, understood. I can be myself around him and he not only tolerates that, but encourages it. He wants me. All of me. Even, and especially, the pieces I've felt the need to hide. And, as he just reiterated, he isn't shy about saying so.</p><p>I knew it already, but now I'm sure: I love him.</p><p>I guide his hands to the back of my dress, asking him wordlessly to continue what he'd started before my anxious mind got the best of me. He sets straight to his task, pulling the ties loose the rest of the way.</p><p>"Could you stand up for me, beautiful?" he asks, licking his lips. He’s so eager, so focused. It’s intoxicating.</p><p>The panels of satin, brown, gray, red, and black, rustle against each other as my dress cascades down my body and puddles around my feet. Julian gasps audibly to see me bare before him. And I am bare: the sleeveless gown wasn’t conducive to supportive undergarments, and I don’t wear anything under my normal leggings anyway. His forearms flex like he wants to reach out and touch me, but instead, he leans back against the wall and lets his knees fall open, going limp.</p><p>At least, most of him goes limp. </p><p>“My god, Reyja,” he says after a moment. “You’re even more amazing than I imagined. And, ah…” The broad grin I love so much lights up his face. “And I’ve spent an awful lot of time imagining you.”</p><p>He <em>has </em>had several nights to himself since we holed up at Mazelinka’s house, and I know sleep doesn’t come easily to him. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he found another, more stimulating activity to fill his time.</p><p>Warm air caresses me as I slip out of my heels and nudge my dress away from the edge of the water. “Would you like to join me?”</p><p>“Oh, darling, would I ever!”</p><p>Julian scrabbles at his trouser buttons, undoing them with a relieved sigh, then rises to his feet almost too quickly and stumbles in his anticipation. The blush that spills across his skin like wine deepens as he hooks his thumbs in his waistband and pulls it down, revealing his stiffened cock and the thatch of dark red curls around it.</p><p>I’m no expert on that particular organ, but the sight sends a jolt of arousal down my spine. It’s thin, like he is, tapering into a long cockhead along quite the upward curve. When he notices where I’m looking, he curls his fist around it and pumps slowly, gliding his palm along the veined shaft. </p><p>He trips when he starts to shuffle to my side. It’s endearing, the way he coughs to hide his panicked squeak as he steadies himself against the wall before unclasping his boots and stepping out of his trousers fully.  </p><p>“Ahem, don’t mind me. Erm… long legs. They catch on things, you know.”</p><p>“I like your long legs.”</p><p>He peeks sidelong at me, embarrassment fading into a small, pleased smile, and wastes no time ushering me towards the water with a spread of his arms. “I’m… that’s good. I mean, I’m glad you do.”</p><p>Heat steals up my calves the moment I dip my toes into the pool. Julian follows down the wide marble stairs into the middle of the enormous tub; even at its deepest, the water barely reaches the crest of his hips. But he doesn’t seem to notice or care: all of his attention is on me.</p><p>I look up at him as he stops to run his hands down my arms, leaving kisses in his wake. Ripples loop around us, spreading to the edge of the bath and back while he explores my skin, with all of its bumps and blemishes. He groans in appreciation of my pubic hair and ruts with small, restrained movements against the flesh of my belly, graces my collarbones with little purple bruises as he touches everywhere he’s touched before and more. It’s all I can do to stay standing, clutching him to keep my balance.</p><p>It isn’t until I feel the throb of his cock that I remember this doesn’t have to be one-sided: I’m just as capable of making him feel good as he is me. At the very least, I’m familiar with the concept of what that throb indicates. Before I can talk myself out of it, I take him in hand. I didn’t know he would feel so hot, or so hard, new and strange but exciting too. With a strangled grunt, Julian thrusts into my fist. Sighs flutter from him between broken words of praise and instruction, guiding me as I urge him towards his peak.</p><p>“Yes, darling, <em>yes</em>,” he whimpers, sagging against me several minutes later and pushing his face into the crook of my neck. “Oh, Reyja, I— I’m—"</p><p>“You’re close?”</p><p>He laughs breathlessly. “I’ve been close.” Shaky kisses patter like raindrops along my shoulder. “I, ha, I’ve held off twice now. I am— ah! I- I am capable of control, to a point.”</p><p>I get the feeling he isn’t going to let himself off the hook for cumming in his pants, no matter how much I reassure him that it was alright. More than alright, even: incredibly hot.</p><p>“B-but, but only to a point. Please.” There’s desperation in his eyes when they meet mine. “Please, can I cum?”</p><p>The question sends another lightning bolt through my veins. Damn, but he’s beautiful when he begs. Every taste I get of his submissive side only leaves me hungry for more. I may have searched him outside my shop, surprising myself with my own boldness, but he had invited me to search until I was satisfied. </p><p>And I’m not satisfied yet. </p><p>I shake my head, triggering a delicious whimper. Slickened by the water and the bursts of precum he’s released, I tighten my grip and stroke him more firmly, stopping when I think he's getting too eager. Before long he’s trembling, muttering a constant stream of mingled curses and cries for mercy.</p><p>I can’t believe I have the power to reduce him to this with just my hand.</p><p>He’s molded himself so close to me that I can whisper my eventual permission into his ear. And what a gorgeous sound he makes when he cums, his cock spasming as he delivers thick ropes of spend across my belly, just above the waterline. He stammers his gratitude between sloppy kisses before he’s even finished.</p><p>When he does run dry, he pulls me to the edge of the bath and lifts me effortlessly onto the smooth stone; the strength in his arms, stretched taut across his back and chest, never fails to amaze me.</p><p>“Oh, oh my darling, I’ve wanted this for so <em>long</em>,” he gasps, kissing a line down my breastbone. “So long. Mm, and it’s better than I ever dreamed it would be.” His gaze is clouded with pleasure when he stops to rest his cheek on the curve of my stomach. “C-can I use my mouth on you? Please? Oh, I want to feel your legs around me, Reyja, I want to taste you on my tongue! Please, please will you let me?”</p><p>What self-respecting person could say no to a question like that?</p><p>Nothing I've ever done to myself could prepare me for the perfection of his mouth. He's clearly done this before, and knows very, very well what he's doing. He groans when I grab a handful of his hair. I didn't mean to, but flailing hands find whatever's closest. Encouraged, I pull harder. </p><p>"Yes, yes! As hard as you want!" he cries before burying his face between my legs again, lapping and kissing and sucking. I yelp and tremble the closer he coaxes me to a climax; that's never happened under my own hand. </p><p>When I cum, it’s like a tidal wave. Had I been standing, I’m sure my knees would’ve given out. His lips and chin are coated in my slick when he emerges, but he licks it up eagerly before going to work cleaning his release from my skin too. He’s grinning hazily at me with his head in my lap by the time I come down. </p><p>I smile back, filled with the pleasant hum I can now guarantee is love. As his tousled hair falls into his eyes, an idea floats through my mind.</p><p>"Could you dip under the water, Juley? Get your hair wet? I want to wash it for you." </p><p>He blushes but does as I ask. While he’s away, I rummage through the scented perfumes and soaps at the side of the pool until I find one I like: the faintest nip of woodsmoke layered between notes of musk and vanilla, dark and complex. It's perfect for him. He almost purrs as I rub the concoction into his scalp, leaning heavily against my legs with his eyes closed, radiating peace and contentment and post-orgasm bliss into the warmth of the bath chamber.</p><p>“Okay, you can rinse off now.”</p><p>But he doesn’t. Instead, he tips his head back and smiles at me with stars in his eyes.</p><p>“Thank you, my darling.”</p><p>I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him say that, knowing he means me. I match his grin with one of my own as I trace patterns in the tendrils of soapy hair across his forehead.</p><p>But outside the door behind us, trouble lies in wait. The Masquerade has just begun and we’ve already found our fair share of drama, if not more. </p><p>“How much longer can we stay here, do you think?” I ask softly.</p><p>“Mmm, forever?”</p><p>“I’m serious.”</p><p>With a sleepy laugh, he sinks beneath the water only to turn and surge up again, plant his hands on the tile to either side of my hips, and press a heated, streaming wet kiss to my lips. “So am I.”</p><p>Before I can say anything else, he settles his arms around my waist and sighs happily, nestled between my legs.</p><p>“We can stay here as long as you want. The Masquerade, and all the goat-hunting and mystery that comes with it, can wait for us for a little while.”</p>
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